We can't talk about dirty stuff?
Can I talk about the dead mouse in the bottom of the pool that I had to get out today with the skimmer? I used the net on the ten foot pole to scoop it up, which was good, except that then I couldn't get it to come out of the net. I didn't want to touch the mouse- hell, I didn't want to even get NEAR that end of the pole because I could see that its eyes were open, and it was freaking me out. What if it was alive- even after twenty four hours on the bottom of the pool? Maybe it was an amphibious mouse. I would DIE if it moved or spoke to me. So I started flinging the net back and forth harder and harder, like a lacrosse stick, and suddenly the mouse flew out and soared across the yard. Myers was watching and he tore off after it, like a retriever cat. I ran after him with the net, screaming "No Myers! No!" And look up to see my neighbor, yes, my favorite neighbor, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Couldn't you use a catnip mouse or a cat ball or something?"
He's so funny.
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